


First Scar

by ashara_tahnn



Series: The Maverick and The Negotiator [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: A little bit of fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Black Sun, Capture, Enslaved, F/M, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, I did my best, Nightmares, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Protective Qui-Gon Jinn, Scars, WAY more angsty than I usually write, no beta we die like Jedi, so I guess we'll see how it goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28881639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashara_tahnn/pseuds/ashara_tahnn
Summary: In which Obi-Wan's second solo mission goes wrong, and Qui-Gon's 'mama bantha' tendencies come out in full force.Set when Obi-Wan was 16UPDATE: IT'S FINISHED!!!
Relationships: Background Qui-Gon Jinn/Tahl Uvain, Bant Eerin & Obi-Wan Kenobi & Quinlan Vos & Luminara Unduli, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: The Maverick and The Negotiator [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093769
Comments: 7
Kudos: 95





	1. Enslaved

**Author's Note:**

> I have to say, this isn't one of my best works, but I wasn't going to just abandon it, so here you go. Please let me know if you have any suggestions!

Qui-Gon stood in the Temple comm center with Yoda and Mace Windu, listening to the ill-boding message. Even through the poor sound quality, he heard the fear beneath Obi-Wan’s falsely calm tone. 

_ “Master, I’ve reached Kyleesi, but the situation here is much worse than we first thought. By the looks of it, the dispute between the natives and the Kyleesian Mining Company was settled several rotations ago when KMCo received backing from Black Sun. They’ve taken control of the government, and Kyleesi’s been turned into a slave-run mining colony. I’m attempting to gather information, but that’s all I can manage for now. I await further instructions.”  _

The message faded out, leaving a tense silence in its place. Qui-Gon was ready to leave for Kyleesi right then and there, the journey to the remote outer-rim planet would take several days, and he was anxious to help his padawan. Before he could head for the door, however, he received a sharp whack on the shins from Yoda’s gimer stick.

“Master Yoda—” Qui-Gon began to protest, but he was cut off.

“Agree, I do, that help your padawan, you should.” Yoda interrupted. “However, send you alone to face Black Sun, we will not.”

* * *

“You need to calm down, Qui. Wearing a groove in the shuttle floor isn’t going to get us to Obi-Wan any faster.”

To Qui-Gon’s relief, his close friend Tahl Uvain had been the one assigned to accompany him to Kyleesi. Her familiar presence helped soothe his nerves, but only by a little. 

Qui-Gon paused his pacing for a moment to throw up his hands in agitation.

“How is it that he managed to run into  _ Black Sun _ on only his second solo mission?” 

“It seems you’ve passed on your penchant for attracting trouble.” Tahl replied calmly, checking the fuel readout.

Qui-Gon just gave a small huff and continued pacing.

“Seriously, Qui-Gon, we don’t even know if Obi-Wan really  _ is  _ in trouble yet.” Tahl turned around in the pilot’s chair to look at him. “His message said he was going to do a bit of recon, that’s all.”

“That might’ve been comforting if we’d actually been able to reach him to respond.”

“Have you tried reaching him through your bond?”

“Many times, but all I can tell is that he’s alive. He’s shielding like crazy.”

“Then all you have to do now is meditate. If we really are heading into trouble, you can’t stay like this.” She said, gesturing vaguely to the path Qui-Gon had been nervously treading for the past hour. 

Qui-Gon stopped and sighed. “You’re right.” 

“Of course I am. Now go.”

* * *

Qui-Gon was marginally calmer by the time they reached Kyleesi, but his mind was still racing with ‘what ifs’. The slightly more composed part of his mind chided himself for it.  _ Stay in the here and now, you hypocrite. What do you always tell Obi-Wan? _

Tahl landed the ship in a wooded bluff, and the pair disembarked. When they reached the edge of the cliff, Obi-Wan’s findings were confirmed. Below them, where an arcadian tropical village had once been, lay dozens of newly-dug strip mines, surrounded on all sides by hastily erected durasteel bunkers.

“Please tell me he’s not down there.”

Unfortunately, when Obi-Wan’s ship transponder led Qui-Gon and Tahl to the main (and only) hangar in the mining camp, it seemed that Obi-Wan had indeed gotten himself into trouble, as per usual. 

When Qui-Gon moved back behind the hangar, Tahl read his grim expression easily.

“No sign of him. His transport’s been stripped for parts.” He said quietly, gazing at the endless lines of enslaved Kyleesians forced to work in the newly dug strip mines below.

“What now?” Tahl asked deferentially. 

By way of answer, Qui-Gon closed his eyes lightly. To his surprise, he found that Obi-Wan’s shields were much weaker now. He was relieved, but worried at the same time. His padawan’s presence in the Force felt oddly feeble, like a comm signal that had been relayed too many times. Qui-Gon opened his eyes. “Something’s wrong. Obi-Wan isn’t shielding as much anymore, but his presence is dulled.” 

Tahl’s lips thinned as she too processed the many awful connotations this development could have. “Can you sense where he is?”

Qui-Gon’s sense of foreboding only increased when he found Obi-Wan’s signature. “The manse.”

* * *

When Obi-Wan woke up, he could feel sunlight shining on his face, and for one blissful moment, he imagined he was back in the apartment he and Qui-Gon shared at the Temple, another Coruscant sunrise shining in his window. Then, as he began to wake up fully, he felt the heavy slave collar around his neck and the many cuts and bruises on his back and legs. Suppressing a groan, he blinked up at the single ray of light that had found its way into the squalid slave quarters through a gap in the metal roof. The sensation that really grounded him, however, was the feel and sight of the little 12-year old Twi’lek girl asleep in his lap, wearing a slave collar several sizes too large for her slight frame. Obi-Wan hated to wake her from such a peaceful sleep, but he knew that missing a few minutes of rest would be much desired over the vicious beating she would receive for oversleeping. He shook her gently and her enormous brown eyes fluttered open.

“Good morning Skya. Can you help me wake the others?” He asked quietly.

She sat up and nodded. Obi-Wan’s heart broke at the way she struggled to stand up straight because of the heavy collar. He began to make his way through the crowded slave quarters, gently rousing the others; he was desperate to help in any way he could, which included making sure no one was beaten for oversleeping. Obi-Wan had only been a captive for three days, but he was already well known in the mining camp; he’d been brutally punished quite a few times already for protecting the enslaved Kyleesians. He knew that being noticed, especially if he was identified as a jedi, would only put him in more danger, but he could not stand to  _ not  _ help these people.

The native Kyleesi were a simple, carefree people who had known nothing of oppression until now. This meant that Black Sun had been able to subdue them swiftly and without opposition, and there was little chance of a rebellion arising. 

Little Skya came jogging back to Obi-Wan, her amber lekku bouncing merrily.

“Everyone’s awake, Mister Kenobi.”

Skya had stuck to Obi-Wan’s side since the first day when he had convinced a guard that  _ he  _ was the one who broke the vibro-axe, rather than her. The lashes he’d received as punishment hadn’t healed yet.

“Thank you, Skya, but please, call me Obi-Wan.”

“Okay.” She smiled happily. Obi-Wan sent a silent prayer of gratitude to the Force for the bright child. The atmosphere in the camp was one of pain and despair, an impression that was only supported by the horrible living conditions and endless toil. Her inextinguishable spirit had been a much-needed anchor for him these past few days. 

The signal for the first shift blared shrilly, breaking the stillness of the morning.

“Go with your mother, Skya.” Obi-Wan prompted, giving her a gentle nudge towards the row of women and children lining up for the slightly less demanding jobs. With a small nod, she squeezed his hand once then ran off. For just a moment, Obi-Wan closed his eyes, trying to find peace in the Force, centering himself in the hundreds of lives around him, then he too turned and joined the line of slaves heading to the mines.

* * *

For a moment, the only sounds were the soft, gravelly chinking of rocks settling and the occasional dry cough. Obi-Wan was crouched on one knee in the center of the newly formed chamber, his hands still outstretched toward the ceiling, breathing heavily. Slowly letting his arms fall, he slouched onto the dusty ground. He was dimly aware of a burning sensation on his leg, but the vicious pounding in his head drowned out his other senses. When Obi-Wan tried to reach into the Force to find the life signatures of the cavern’s four other occupants, he was hit with a fresh wave of pain.  _ Lovely. Psychic overextension.  _ It seemed that nearly three days straight of calling on the Force for shielding, energy, and strength had finally caught up with him.  _ That’s the eighth time this year. Master Che is going to kill me. _

“No’vus?” Obi-Wan asked in the pitch darkness, “Is everyone alright?”

Another cough, then No’vus, Skya’s father and their team leader, replied hoarsely, 

“Over here, son. I think we’re all okay.”

No one else spoke up, so Obi-Wan turned to the wall of rubble that was now blocking their escape and began to look for a weak spot where they might be able to push through. He found a chunk of loose rock and began digging away the debris, careful not to bring the wall down on himself. No’vus and a Kessurian whose name Obi-Wan didn’t know joined him a moment later, and they silently began working together to clear a path. 

It wasn’t until a few rays of light began to filter in and Obi-Wan saw the odd way No’vus was looking at him that Obi-Wan realized how much danger he was now in. In full view of the others, he had used the Force to keep the cavern from collapsing. It had been instinctive, and he hadn’t had any time to try and hide what he had done. The psychic overextension prevented Obi-Wan from trying to get a sense of what the others knew without draining all of his remaining energy and worsening his already torturous headache. All he could do now was hope that no one had really noticed in the chaos of the cave-in.

A few minutes later, they broke through completely, and the others hurried out into the arms of worried family members and friends. The slavers were too busy trying to find out what triggered the equipment malfunction and subsequent cave-in to punish anyone for slacking, so the slaves took what time they could to recover. No’vus, however, stayed a few steps behind with Obi-Wan. 

“You’re a Jedi.” He declared without preamble. It wasn’t a question, and Obi-Wan could tell even without the Force that it was no use trying to fool this man.

“An apprentice, yes.”

“Thank you.” No’vus said after a moment. “For that,” He gestured back at the cave-in. “And for helping my daughter.”

“I was just doing my job. But--”

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise. But I’m not sure about the others.”

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan couldn’t help wincing as he walked. The throbbing behind his eyes had begun to wear off just slightly, which meant he could now feel pain blossoming out from a gash just below his knee. 

No’vus noticed. “Go find my wife so she can get a bandage on that. I’ll cover for you.”

Obi-Wan began to protest, but No’vus cut him off. “Please, son. Go now while they aren’t paying attention, before it gets infected.”

Obi-Wan sighed. No’vus was right; now would be his best opportunity to get away without one of the slavers noticing, and he wouldn’t be much help to anyone with an injured leg. 

“Thank you.” He said again, then turned and began to pick his way to the sorting warehouse, where many of the women and children worked. 

He had made it about halfway when one of the slavers shouted at him.

“Ssstay where you are, ssskug!”

Obi-Wan looked up, cursing his racing heart that made the gash on his leg bleed harder.

The brutish Trandoshan stomped over to him, brandishing an electrostaff. “You’re going to the Master,  _ jeedai _ !” He snarled.

Bowing his head, Obi-Wan let himself be led to the extortionately luxurious manse from which the Black Sun official presided, praying to the Force that Qui-Gon received his message.

* * *

Qui-Gon and Tahl were just forming a plan to get into the manse when Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan’s shields fall completely. Almost instantly, he was hit with an overwhelming wave of pain, and he stumbled backward.

“Qui? What happened?” Tahl asked urgently, grabbing his arm to steady him.

“It’s... Obi-Wan.” He grimaced, working to build up his own shields through the throbbing in his head. “We have to go now, Tahl.”

“What happened?” She asked, even as she followed him back to the cliff that overlooked the manse. She almost had to jog to keep up with his urgent strides.

“I don’t know, but his shields fell.” He replied shortly, but Tahl understood.

Qui-Gon leapt lightly down onto the roof as soon as they reached the cliff, with Tahl not far behind. They both slid smoothly down the slanted roof and dropped onto the ground, right in front of the back door. Tahl swiftly dispatched the two guards before they had a chance to register the sudden appearance of two Jedi.

“I’ll keep watch.” She offered. Qui-Gon gave a swift nod of thanks and headed inside.

He moved briskly but silently down the dimly lit hallway until he reached a fork. Obi-Wan’s signature felt dangerously faint, and he seemed to be unconscious. Qui-Gon sped up down the left corridor. Any other time, he would have been suspicious at the convenient lack of guards or resistance, but fear for his padawan and a sense of urgency that bordered in panic filled his mind. After a moment, the walls turned to durasteel, and he found himself in an area that appeared to be a prison. As soon as he located the cell Obi-Wan occupied, he (rather unwisely, perhaps, but  _ his padawan was in there and he was hurt and Qui-Gon needed to hurry _ ) ignited his lightsaber and thrust it into the door, making short work of the thin metal. His heart caught in his throat at what he saw.

Obi-Wan lay on a thin pallet that could barely pass as a blanket, dressed only in his leggings. His unnaturally pallid skin was covered in bruises, and several long, bloody slashes cut across his chest and back. His short ginger hair was matted down with blood on one side of his head, and his right leg lay at an odd angle, like it had been broken. His arms were chained to the wall above him by steel manacles, and a heavy slave collar encircled his neck. He seemed to be asleep, but his breathing was shallow and unsteady.

Qui-Gon crossed the small, bare room in a few strides and dropped down on one knee beside Obi-Wan. He easily unlocked the manacles with simple use of the Force, and was about to remove the collar when an oily voice spoke from behind him.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” 

Qui-Gon whipped around, automatically drawing his lightsaber. An opulently clad Falleen woman stood in the doorway, flanked by two more Trandoshan guards. 

“Another Jedi, come to save the day?” She sneered. “How delightfully predictable.”

Internally, Qui-Gon railed at himself for letting his guard down, but on the outside, he simply gave a courteous smile and a small bow. 

“At your service, Lady Kiruur.” He said politely, enjoying the look of shock that she gave at his recognition. While he spoke, he scanned his surroundings for anything that might assist his escape. Both Falleen and Trandoshans were difficult to manipulate with the Force, so any attempt to talk his way out of the situation would most likely be met with failure. Without limitations, he could’ve taken out all three of his opponents with relative ease, but the cell was quite cramped for fighting, and he couldn’t risk anything happening to Obi-Wan.

“What is it you want?” He asked conversationally, as if they were polite acquaintances chatting over tea.

“Well, it seems the last Jedi you sent us wasn’t a very good one.” She gestured to Obi-Wan’s prone form. “He couldn’t use your magic even to save his own skin. So, I think I’d like to make a trade. You stay here with us, and the boy goes free. It’s quite simple, really.”

“And what if I do not agree to this trade?”

With a smile that showed every one of her sharp teeth, Kiruur held up a small remote that Qui-Gon hadn’t noticed and pressed a button. Qui-Gon spun back around to see Obi-Wan’s slave collar release a surge of electricity. Obi-Wan let out a cry of pain, his body stiffening as the electricity coursed through him. Before either Kirrur or Qui-Gon could act, however, a new voice cut in, followed by the familiar blaze of a lightsaber igniting.

“That’s enough, I think.” Tahl stood behind Kiruur, her azure saber held just centimeters from the Falleen’s neck. The two Trandoshans lay unconscious on the floor beside her.

“Drop the remote. Now.” 

The remote fell to the floor with a clatter, and the flow of electricity was cut off. Kiruur held up her hands, turning to face her new opponent. A moment later, she crumpled to the ground, senseless, and Tahl drew her arm back, nursing her fist.

As soon as the remote hit the ground, Qui-Gon dropped to his knees beside Obi-Wan, who had fallen back unconscious.

“Don’t wake him, Qui.” Tahl said, her tone as soft now as it had been dangerous a moment ago. “It’ll be easier if he’s asleep.”

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, releasing most of his fear and anger into the Force, and gently picked up his padawan. When Obi-Wan’s head lolled onto his chest, Qui-Gon saw his padawan braid hidden in his nerf tail. 

Tahl did not offer any empty words of comfort, instead silently leading the way out of the manse and back to the ship. They both knew that Obi-Wan’s condition was just as bad, if not worse than it looked, and the best they could do now was return to the ship as quickly as possible.

* * *

Obi-Wan awoke with a start, instinctively trying to sit up. Instead, a wave of pain spread across his back and chest, and he curled in on himself impulsively, grimacing against the burning sensation. Rather than receiving the expected searing shock of an electrostaff or the lash of a whip, however, he felt a hand tenderly carding through his hair. The action was so gentle that it nearly brought tears to Obi-Wan’s eyes.

“Shh, Obi-Wan, it’s ok, you’re safe now.”

He waited for the pain to pass, then slowly opened his eyes. 

“M’ster?” He asked, his voice just as weak as the rest of him felt.

“Yes, padawan, I’m here now.”

Obi-Wan blinked down at himself. He was still dressed only in his leggings, but his chest was bandaged, and he could feel a bacta patch covering the left side of his head.

“Where’s here?” He asked, desperately hoping that this was real, and he hadn’t just been given another hallucinogen. 

The hand stilled for a moment. “This is real, Obi-Wan. You’re on a ship that’s on its way back to Coruscant.”

Obi-Wan rolled over with a wince and met Qui-Gon’s worried gaze. He wanted nothing more than to bask in his Master’s warm, sturdy presence in the Force, but the (extremely diminutive) portion of his mind concerned with self-preservation reminded him of the psychic overextension for the umpteenth time. 

“What about... the Kyleesians?” He asked, thinking of Skya.

Qui-Gon sighed and continued brushing his fingers through Obi-Wan’s short hair.

“Master Koon was on Rutan. He’ll handle everything on Kyleesi.”

Obi-Wan nodded, failing to suppress a shiver. Qui-Gon noticed immediately, and used his free hand to tuck a blanket around Obi-Wan’s shoulders. Obi-Wan felt his eyelids beginning to droop, but he tried to resist. Sleep only meant more nightmares and pain, and he childishly wanted Qui-Gon to stay.

“Don’t worry, Obi-Wan, I’m staying right here.” Qui-Gon said gently, taking one of Obi-wan’s hands in his own. “You won’t have any more dreams, I promise.”

With a small sigh, Obi-Wan let his eyes close, and he was asleep within moments. 

* * *

The three-day journey back to Coruscant passed in a haze of pain and unconsciousness. At one point, Obi-Wan thought he saw Master Tahl, but it was becoming harder and harder to distinguish from reality and fever dreams. Qui-Gon stayed by his side for almost every moment of the trip, (unbeknownst to Obi-Wan) shielding his mind from the nightmares while he slept, and helping to ease his pain during the few moments when he was awake.

* * *

As soon as their ship touched down, Qui-Gon set off for the Halls of Healing, carrying his once again unconscious padawan, and moving at a pace that only he could achieve without running. Bant Eerin, one of Obi-Wan’s best friends, was on duty at the front desk when Qui-Gon arrived. When she saw them, her webbed hands flew to her mouth, smothering a horrified gasp. Thankfully, however, she kept her wits about her and ran to find Vokara Che.

In a moment, the blue-skinned Twi’lek healer came striding into the room.

“Stars above, Jinn,” She asked sternly, “What have you gotten into now?”

“He was imprisoned by Black Sun, Vokara.” Qui-Gon replied shortly.

Vokara’s eyebrows shot up, and she silently gestured for Qui-Gon to follow her into the Halls.

* * *

A little over an hour later, Vokara entered the waiting room, where Qui-Gon, now joined by Tahl, sat waiting. She waved them both back down when they stood up.

“He’s completely stable and sleeping peacefully. You can see him in a moment if you wish.”

She sat down as well. “None of his injuries were serious, and aside from the malnourishment, he should be fine in a week. The worst of it was the burn on his arm, which appeared to be from an electro-whip. You were right not to use bacta on it, it may have gotten infected if you had, but it will leave a scar. I’m more concerned about his mind than his body. I’ve dealt with psychic overextension before, especially with Obi-Wan, but this is the worst I’ve seen in a long time. He won’t be able to use the Force without serious backlash for at least two weeks, and it will probably be a month before he’s fully back to normal. His shields are all but nonexistent, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed, but you’ll need to wait on rebuilding them for now.”

“Understood.” Qui-Gon replied. “How long will he have to stay in the Halls?”

At this, Vokara gave the slightest of eyerolls. “I want him to stay overnight, but he can return to your quarters tomorrow as long as you make absolutely sure he is resting. Also, if you can help it, don't leave him by himself for too long. I’m not suggesting you baby him,” Here Tahl gave a quiet snort. “But his propensity for visions, lack of shielding, and tendency to internalize any issues will not be a good combination.”

Qui-Gon nodded again, not hiding his desire to see his padawan very well. Vokara gave a put-upon sigh. “Yes, Jinn, you can go now.” Technically she had more to say, but she knew that Qui-Gon would fly to Ryloth and back for Obi-Wan, and between him, Tahl, and all of Obi-Wan’s friends, the boy would not be neglected. She turned to Tahl. “Do make sure that Qui-Gon doesn’t forget to eat and sleep himself. I can only handle one at a time.” 

Tahl grinned. “I shall do my best.”


	2. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan has been home for several days, but the nightmares haven't stopped. Luckily, his friends are here to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might be mildly okay at writing angst in short bits, but I dunno. Maybe that's just wishful thinking. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“Here Obi,” Luminara handed him a datapad. “I saved you my notes from Intergalactic History.”

It had been four days since Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had returned from Kyleesi, and Bant, Luminara, and Quinlan were all hanging out in Obi-Wan’s apartment.

“Thanks, Nara.” Obi-Wan said, gratefully accepting the pad.

“Why don’t you ever let  _ me  _ borrow your notes?” Quin asked from where he lay sprawled across the back of the couch.

Luminara crossed her arms and shot him a disapproving look. “Because you were  _ in class,  _ Quinlan, and should’ve been taking your own notes!”

Bant snorted. “Mustafar will freeze over before Quinlan Vos does his homework properly.”

“Damn right.” Quin replied, now lying with his back on the couch cushions and his legs propped against the wall.

Obi-Wan laughed softly, basking in the warm presences of his close friends. The psychic overextension had worn off just enough that he could feel the Force and its inhabitants, but any attempt to touch it or weild it was still met with a horrible migraine. Absently, he traced the lightning-like electro-whip scar that wrapped around his forearm, a permanent reminder of his ‘run in’ with Black Sun.

The latter half of his time on Kyleesi was a blur of pain and darkness, and he still remembered vividly the feeling of complete isolation away from the Force. In the last few days, he would have given anything to be able to feel life again. Any life, even that of the Falleen who oversaw his ‘conditioning’. Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut against the memories that came rushing in, but once he’d started, it was hard to stop. Inwardly, he cursed himself. Even the slightest prompting sent his mind into a downward spiral lately, and until he could start shielding again, there was nothing he could do to stop it. Snatches of time and moments from visions that he could no longer distinguish from reality flooded his senses.

The low, grating cackle of the overseer which turned into a cold mocking laugh that seemed to reverberate incessantly in his mind. 

The agonizing sensation of burning from the inside out.

Someone he knew, someone he should’ve been able to protect, screaming his name.

The feeling of utter helplessness and despair that permeated his dreams, even now.

He startled when he felt someone lay a hand on his arm, and his eyes flew open.

“Hey, Obi, it’s okay, it’s just me.” Bant said quietly, her eyes wide with shocked concern. For a moment, Obi-Wan didn’t move apart from the heaving of his chest as he tried to steady his breathing. When he looked up, he saw that there were tears in Luminara’s eyes, and she had her hands over her mouth, and even Quinlan looked shaken.

“Oh Force, what did I do?” He asked, mortified. 

“You, uh- you were projecting.” Luminara replied.

Obi-Wan dropped his face into his hands in dismay. “Kriff, guys, I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be, Obi-Wan. You clearly couldn’t help it.” Quin said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

“What _ was _ that, Obi?” Bant asked.

Obi-Wan decided that honesty was the best course of action, especially since a lack of shields meant his mind was practically wide open. “I don’t know. Memories. Or dreams. Maybe both. I had a lot of visions while I was… there… because I couldn’t shield myself, and… they haven’t stopped.” He tried his best to sound matter-of-fact, like the memories didn’t rattle him. Maybe it didn’t work though, because Bant immediately sat down next to him and wrapped him in a firm hug. Obi-Wan had never been the most tactile person, but the gesture was extremely comforting, and he returned the hug, albeit a little weakly. The echoes of darkness never really went away, and even now it whispered in the back of his mind. He felt slightly sick.

“Why haven’t you seen a mind healer yet?” Bant asked, her brow still furrowed in concern. 

“It’s not worth it.” He replied quietly. “There’s nothing they can do, because it’s just my own memories. I just have to wait until the Force exhaustion wears off.”

There was a moment of silence, then Quinlan shifted down off of the wall and held out an ungloved hand to Obi-Wan.

“No, Quin, I can’t ask you to--” Obi-Wan began to protest.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Besides, what else are you going to do? You can’t stay like this.”

Obi-Wan looked torn for a moment, but then he gave a small nod. Bant scooted back, and Obi-Wan took Quinlan’s hand. The effect was almost instantaneous. Quinlan grimaced as he shared Obi-Wan’s memories and visions, then it was as if an invisible weight had been lifted from Obi-Wan’s shoulders. After a moment, they let go, Quinlan with a small shake of his head. 

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan said. He felt like he should say more, but weighty words were wasted on Quinlan.

“No problem, man,” Quin replied, “But how is it that between a healer, an apprentice Shadow, and the padawan of a Councilor,  _ you  _ always get the toughest missions?”

Obi-Wan gave a small laugh. “I blame it on the lineage.” 

The foursome spent the rest of the afternoon in relative silence; Bant stayed with one arm wrapped around Obi-Wan’s shoulders, and all three of his companions consistently emitted feelings of  _ warmth-comfort-peace-protection.  _ Usually, Obi-Wan would object, claiming that he was worth the trouble, but he truly felt much more grounded and at peace. After a few hours, Quinlan had to leave for a sparring session with Master Tholme, and Luminara headed off for volunteer tutoring in the creche. Bant had the whole day off though, so she stayed with Obi-Wan late into the afternoon, reading and studying, and simply enjoying each other’s company.

Qui-Gon returned to the apartment at 5 o’clock to find both his padawan and Bant Eerin asleep on the sofa. Obi-Wan was leaning on Bant, and her head rested atop his. Smiling widely, Qui-Gon quietly took a holo of the scene, then tiptoed into the kitchen to make a pot of tea, leaving the two teenagers to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a mildly angsty fluff piece, but the my brain was like 'No, no. We must have PLOT.' So then this happened. Like the tag says, this wasn't beta read, so there might be errors, especially in the way time flows, because I just /cannot/ write anything without a ridiculous number of time skips. If you find any problems or plot holes, please let me know so I can fix them! Constructive criticism is appreciated as well as compliments, and it helps a lot. As always, huge thank you to everyone who comments/kudos! I love you all!  
> -Ashara


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